“I thought I was,” she replied, face flushed.
Malcolm took a shaking breath as they stared at one another. Violet started to speak, but he hushed her with a word. Silence stretched into seconds, and he thought about his brother and about the ways in which Maggie’s death changed everything. There was no need to live in Elkhart anymore, no need to give his respect and loyalty to those incapable of either, no matter how honorable a life he had tried to lead.
“Violet,” he said. “I don’t know what comes next, but I do know—”
The train rocked them again, pressing her against him. Her cheek lay against his chest, arms sliding around him. They’d come to a place where just a few words could change everything. Elias might be a deeply shitty husband, but he and Violet were still married. That could change, of course, but for now, it was a simple fact.
Malcolm stepped back to put a few inches between them. He knew the future he wanted, but there were steps to take before they could get there.
“What do you think?” he asked, trying for normalcy. “Are you hungry?”
Violet exhaled quiet laughter. She slid her hand behind his neck and stretched up to kiss him. The train kept rattling onward, but time slipped away from them again, only this time, they weren’t sleeping.
10
Violet figured a couple of hours had passed since that first kiss and what came afterward. Malcolm would be burning with guilt, but she told herself it would fade. A warm ember smoldered in her chest, and another slightly lower. A few more days, a last farewell to Maggie, and they would have the new beginning they deserved.
Happy, and not sorry for her happiness in the shadow of grief, she walked back through the sleeper cars and into the dining car. The smell of food drew a growl from her stomach, but she passed among the chatting passengers without pause. On the return, she would get something for herself and Malcolm to eat.
Men in business suits sat with women whose dresses looked as carefully primped and pinned as their hair. In her nightclub days, she had grown used to glares from the wives in the audience, but today, she earned mostly curious looks. She’d had little sleep, her clothes were rumpled, her hair unruly, but she kept her spine straight and her head back. One way or another, women always seemed ready to judge her, and she wouldn’t let it get under her skin.
The lounge car came next. Laughter rippled through the air, mixing with furling clouds of cigarette smoke. Attendants poured drinks from decanters, and a bartender vigorously abused a shaker of martinis. The men in the lounge car looked at her a bit differently, like her rumpled appearance suggested ideas they might’ve tried to keep from showing on their faces if they hadn’tbeen drinking since noon. Several smiled at her, tried to speak with her, but she ignored them. One of the wives whispered to another, but if she wasn’t mistaken, the whisperer had looked at her much the same way as her husband. Violet had learned all sorts of things singing torch songs to lonely hearts.
Just before she reached the door at the back of the lounge car, she noticed one man who wasn’t smiling. He sat alone at a small table that seemed almost miniature next to him. Dark hair, dark eyes, dark mood emanating from him. He rotated his head just a few inches to track her as she passed, suspicion in his eyes like she’d only ever seen on police detectives and men so rich they knew everyone wanted something from them. This fellow didn’t look like either of those things, but she didn’t like those eyes. His gaze didn’t feel as if he was mentally undressing her. Instead, it felt like he was looking for someone to hurt.
Violet had met her share of those men, too, and managed to avoid becoming entangled with them. All but one, which was how she’d let herself fall in love with Elias. He’d presented a safe haven, and she’d taken it.
She went out the door, stepped between cars, and entered the first coach, but her skin prickled with the memory of those eyes. Just a few rows ahead, she saw a shock of orange hair poking up from behind a seat and felt relieved. They’d only known Alfie for half a day, but Violet found herself trusting him.
“Well,” she said, sliding into the seat beside him. “You look comfortable, damn you.”
Alfie brightened. “If I understand things correctly, there’s no reason you have to hide away with the baggage.”
“I go where Malcolm goes.”
“But you’re here now.”
“To gather provisions,” Violet said. “There’s no dining service where we’re traveling. I will say, I don’t mind the solitude up there. We slept quite a while. I’m not even sure of the time. Did we miss Toledo?”
“You missedCleveland, never mind Toledo. As for the time, about a quarter past five.”
Violet huffed. They’d slept longer than she realized. “I guess those suitcases are more comfortable than I thought. If we’re lucky, we’ll sleep the whole way to Maine.” She glanced around, searching for a matching head of orange hair. “Where’s your brother? I didn’t see him in the lounge. I thought I’d catch you both there.”
Alfie stiffened. “You’ve seen Joe?”
“I just said I hadn’t. I thought he’d be with you.”
Shifting to face her fully, Alfie studied her face. “Start again. Why would you think that? We’re seven hours out of Elkhart. If he were going to catch up to us, he’d have been here by now.”
Violet thought she must still be half asleep. “Now I’m the one confused. He did catch up to us. We saw your car parked beside the tracks—abandoned, really.”
Alfie glanced around the coach as if Joe might suddenly appear. His frown deepened. “How long ago was this?”
“It has to be hours ago. We were sleeping,” she reminded him. “We thought he’d find you.”
“He would have. If he’d made it onto the train—”
“Maybe he didn’t manage it,” Violet said. “Or he was injured.” She looked toward the back of the train. “Could it be he never got this far? If he’s hurt, they could be treating him. They might even have taken him off in Toledo or Cleveland.”
